The Witch of the Opera
by Muffinsweep11
Summary: Glinda takes a 'holiday' from her political duties, and withdraws herself to the new Opera of Kiamo Ko. Will she lose her guts when she realizes that the myth of the vengeful ghost of the Wicked Witch of the West, is more than just fiction? Or will she open up to her soul, and let her angel guide her?
1. The New Girl in Town

**Chapter One: The New Girl in Town**

**A/N: If the title does not already imply, this is a loose crossover of POTO and Wicked. I haven't figured out if this should be classified as book-verse, musical-verse, or booksical; looks more towards musical-verse. Please R&R if i should continue!**

* * *

Two years of being a Head Figure was tiring.

No, tiring wasn't the word. It was _agonizing_.

Hearing lie after lie about your best friend wasn't exactly something you can bear easily. Glinda was surprised she hadn't snapped yet. She'd been balancing on the edge of insanity for the first few months, weeping in her bed for her friend, one she'd never see again. Luckily, Glinda gradually learnt to put up her defenses, build walls around her mentality, and plaster that fake, bubbly smile on her face every time someone mentioned how wicked the Witch had been.

The twisted truth was rotten; all about her melting and how it was a miracle that wretched little farm brat Dorothy was alive. It stung Glinda's heart to see that girl be hailed as a heroine, as a savior of Oz, when she had just killed the one thing that mattered to the Good Witch.

She needed a break.

"I need a holiday," she declared to the council. "A really long one, one from which I don't think I shall return."

The next few months passed as arrangements for her 'vacation' were made, the elections for a new political leader coming and going, the packing of her office beginning and finishing.

Soon she was snuggled in a carriage, nothing like those of the Emerald Palace, but a simple humble, horse drawn carriage that took her away from the Emerald City.

"So, Ma'am, where does your journey lie?" asked the driver curiously, "Am I still to address you as Lady Glinda, now that you've been released from that political hell?"

"Glinda is fine," she replied wearily. She needed a break from thinking, and just to relax, but she was still too young to retire, and she needed something to keep herself occupied. Then it hit her.

"Where would be the best place to start a musical career?" she questioned suddenly.

"A musical career?" repeated the driver, as the carriage bumped down the Yellow Brick Road, through the meadow of poppies. "Why, Miss Glinda, I never knew you to – "

Glinda cleared her throat loudly, hoping the driver will see her annoyance of being judged – reputation was important to her, but now she just didn't have the patience. Fortunately for her, the driver got the message.

"Well, the Gillikin Opera is quite popular, but those are for the big names. The Quadling Theatre is crashing into bankruptcy. Colwen Concert Hall is for the munchkinlanders and their shortness, so i wouldn't suggest a tall - " here the driver coughed slightly "- Gilikinese to try there. Then, I suppose for amateur performers, I'd suggest the Opéra Kiamo Ko."

Kiamo Ko. The castle where Elphaba died…

"From what I've heard," continued the driver, "the Wicked Witch of the West used to live there, after hijacking the place and killing all inhabitants within – " Glinda winced at every word said of her friend, like a torn sinking into her flesh " – and they say her ghost still lingers in that new opera they built off the ruins of the castle."

Glinda slumped back into her seat. Did she have the guts to go back there? Did she have the guts to visit her haunting past?

Perhaps she should. Maybe she could go there, and for once feel closer to her Elphie. It was the most she could do.

She sighed.

"Driver," she called. "Take me to Opéra Kiamo Ko."

* * *

Today was the arrival of the new girl in the Opera. While many girls crowded at the front steps, with the ballet mistress hobbling after them, begging for them to re-enter the building, Pfannee stayed up in her dressing room, uncaring of the identity of the new girl.

Why did she need bother? She was the star of the Opera, her vocal range was heavenly, and her looks were perfection, excluding her munchkin shortness. No one stood competition for her. Since the Opera had opened recently, everyone loved and adored her, letting her have the limelight she deserved. Why should it be any different now that this new girl was here? Sure, she'd heard that the new girl had looks and a soprano range, but surely no match for her, the great powerhouse Madame Pfannee?

Much to her annoyance, there was an incessant knock on her door, and only when she yelled out "Come in! For the love of the Unnamed God!" did the knocking stop and a small boy's head poked round the quoxwood door.

"Madame Pfannee, Madame Nani requests your presence down at the front hall to welcome the new girl."

"Tell her I'm _busy_," said Pfannee, irked, and returned to curling her urban red hair. The boy would not leave her alone.

"But Madame Nani said that if you did not come down, she would send Lurline to come get you. I don't know who Lurline is, but Nani said she wasn't a nice person."

Pfannee sighed in exasperation. "Now, lil' one, Lurline does not exist. She's a fairy, a myth."

"But Madame Nani said she was real!" the boy insisted. "And that if you do not come down she will do something horrible to you, Madame Pfannee, and I don't want anything to happen to you!" then the floodgates opened and the boy began to tear.

"Fine!_ Whatever_!" Pfannee finally said, throwing her hands up in defeat. The boy's face immediately lit up with youthful innocence, and the head darted out of sight.

Pfannee sighed as she stood from her chair. Madame Nani was a cranky old woman, never stopping till she got what she wanted, and though in her late seventies, the woman was still working as the ballet mistress and still able to hobble around on her old walking stick and give a thwack to whichever student didn't obey her rules. Pfannee was not keen to get a whack from that sturdy old thing.

She made her way down to the foyer, letting her gown brush against the new marble tiles as she swept her way across the floor. Her head held high, she sashayed to where the staff was waiting. Madame Nani spotted her and immediately stormed over, her face black as thunder. _Thwack! _went the cane on Pfannee's poor rear end, and the lead singer let out a small shriek of fright for her dress.

"Madame Pfannee!" ranted Nani. "You rascal! You have no mind to at least come down to greet the new one? Where has your courtesy run to?"

"Far from your cane, that's for sure," she muttered, but Nani was already positioning her out in the yard in line with the rest of the staff members, where an ill tended, weed-infested garden stood. A driveway was shoveled out in front of the doors, where upon a horse-drawn carriage was now pulling up.

The carriage came to a stop.

The door was opened, and out came a petite foot, followed by a simple frock and a blond head adorning a giant white sunhat.

And then the new girl looked up.


	2. Hark! The Herald Angel Sings

**Chapter Two: Hark! The Herald Angel Sings**

**A/N: So here's the second chapter! And with a new cover image, drawn by me :D (btw if you haven't found out yet Glinda isn't the only one in the picture... *mysterious smirk*). There's a Celine Dion reference in this chapter. The last two dialogues are meant to be sung to the tune of "Angel of Music" if you can figure it out, and they are my own lyrics YAY! **

**Disclaimer (I nearly forgot about it): I'd be over the moon if either play were mine, but sadly that's not the case, so i'm stuck on reality earth.**

* * *

Glinda Arduenna Upland of the Upper Uplands. Shenshen never thought she'd see the blonde ditz again. But here she was, in the battered old opera of Kiamo Ko, staring wide-eyed at all the simple decorations inside the Vinkun castle.

"Vinkun decorations are so different from those in the Emerald palace," she exclaimed. "And from the Gilikinese ornaments too."

Shenshen observed her former clique mate as she talked, noticing the dark eye-bags and the slight thinning of her face. As bubbly as Glinda was now, it was obvious she'd done some crying once before.

"So, what brings you here, Glinda?" Shenshen asked, as she led the blonde through the passages of the opera.

"A vacation," she said simply, evidently not in the mood for talking of her decision. "The green got to my eyes."

"And Miss Elphaba didn't," said Shenshen before she could help herself. There was an eye-twitch, but nothing more from the former Ozian leader.

"What's with Miss Pfannee and her fainting?" questioned Glinda, unwilling to let silence fall between them. "She seemed…flustered."

"_Madame_ Pfannee's our lead singer in this opera," explained Shenshen. "She was the one who got over your departure for the Wizard the quickest. She took up your abandoned leadership position in our social class, bringing us back together. I suppose that you and her are in the now same building after all this time, it'd be slightly overwhelming for Madame Pfannee."

"Overwhelming…" repeated Glinda with doubt, "in a sense of panic that I'd steal back my spotlight?"

"I suppose you could look at it that way," replied Shenshen quietly, "But she never displayed any worry or doubt that she might be outmatched. She has the voice of an angel." Or so she boasts, thought Shenshen.

"So what business do you have with this amateur opera?" asked Glinda.

"Amateur? Now, don't belittle our opera, Glin, it shall rise to the stars one day."

"If you say so," murmured Glinda under her breath. Shenshen appeared to ignore her, leading her up the spiraling staircases to her room without another word. The girl then dropped a pair of keys into Glinda's hands, and then said, "You have this evening to unpack, you have no need to do shows until a month's time. Nobody ever wanted to stay in this room, but Madame Nani insisted."

Shenshen noticed a shadow of doubt fly across Glinda's fair features, but the blonde nodded, and entered the room with a small, "thank you."

* * *

Nani, that sneaky old woman; Glinda should've known this was another of her tricks. Nani, or Nanny, as Glinda used to know her when she chaperoned Nessarose, was one unreadable woman. Fancy giving Glinda the exact room the blonde had feared.

Elphaba's room.

It was strange however, that she didn't feel a hole in her heart, but instead a fullness, as if Elphie was there in the same room, watching over her like an angel.

An angel…

* * *

_A rainy day in Shiz, West Gilikin. The rain beat unmercifully at the glass windows that shuddered at the impact. Above, the clouds shifted and brewed in darkness, an occasional streak of lightning lighting up the sky like the flash of the light bulb, shattering pines and quoxwood trees. The wind roared through the trees, _

_Within the safety of Crage Hall, Galinda still jumped at the crash of thunder. Elphaba, with her ebony black hair falling over her shoulders like a river of black, sat comfortably in her bed, reading a book, as if she were blocking out the entire world. No, she _was_ blocking out the entire world. Sometimes, Galinda felt a tinge of jealousy, for the green girl to be able to do that. _

_CRASH! It sounded as if a door had been slammed and rattled, and it shook Galinda so badly that she screamed and leapt into Elphie's lap._

_"Elphie! Elphie, please, I'm scared!" she sobbed, clinging to the green girl, who simply grimaced in annoyance._

_"Galinda get off me, you are disturbing my peace," she said. But the blonde would not oblige, sobbing helplessly in front of her roommate. _

_"Galinda, I said…" but the green girl trailed off this time, and there was a sigh as she set down her book on her bedside table, laying a gentle green hand on Galinda's shivering shoulder._

"I'll be your cloud up in the sky_…" she began to sing softly, her voice barely audible, "_I'll be your shoulder when you cry, I'll hear your voice when you call out, I am your angel…" _Galinda's sobs began to tone down, and Elphie sung louder, her confidence strengthened._

_"_And when all hope is gone, I'm here,

no matter how far you are, I'm near,

it makes no difference who you are,

I am your angel…"

_By now Galinda's sobs were gone, and her eyes were wide with wonder, her fears forgotten, entranced by the beauty of the voice who had sung to her._

_"Elphie…your voice…"_

_Outside, the thunder continued to clash, but it could never be as loud as the voice now rang inside Galinda's head. _

_No thunder could compete with Elphaba's voice._

* * *

Glinda needed sleep. She knew that ever since she stepped out of the carriage and the minute the sun of the Vinkus hit her face. She knew that when she was dragging her feet up the spiraling staircases. She knew that now as she collapsed upon her bed, not even bothering to remove her shoes, or caring that the sun had yet to set.

The dream she drifted into was not pleasant, however.

_She was running, to where she didn't know. It was through a dimly lit hallway, into the darkness that seemed to go on into eternity. She was afraid, yes, but up ahead she saw a fleck of light in the distance. To her it radiated warmth and comfort, and she just wanted to reach out to it..._

_Then there__ was a scream, one that seemed to come from her mouth. Suddenly her hands reached out in front of her, smashing something...her own face? She couldn't be sure, for a splash of red now spread across the image, distorting it. The red turned to crimson, then crimson to blackness; black, swirling all around her. She could hear faint voices._

_"I hope you're happy, I hope you're happy now!" cried out a voice in pure white anguish. A blur appeared in front of her, and soon she could see, it took the shape of a man. Not just any man, but Fiyero. "I hope you're proud how you would grovel in submission, to feed your own ambition!"_

_She was frozen, all words of apology unable to escape her lips. No...Fiyero..._

_"No one would listen!" another voice sounded in the same fury, the words harsh and spiteful. This came from a green blur. And no one was green other than..._

_Elphaba, she wanted to whisper, but no sound would come. _

_"I longed to teach the world, rise up and reach the world!" cried Elphaba, her features becoming more and more distinct yet distorted, for anger seemed to mar her face. Her eyes seemed to burn with a fiery passion, even as her words were as cold as the winds that roared upon the mountains of Linster in south Oz. "But no!" she screamed, "No one would listen! I alone could hear the Animals!"_

_Elphie...the images began to fade. No! Elphie I'm sorry! But the blurs began to fade, too quickly. I'm sorry!_

She woke up screaming, just as she had in her dream. Damn the thin walls and echoing hallways, for Madame Nani came barging through her door no sooner than she sat up. "Miss Glinda! Please spare me of your hellish screams! If you've been having nightmares, I'd suggest a walk in the gardens, but please, no screaming with Madame Pfannee's already ear-piercing singing! My ears are soon to be in desperate need of hearing aids, but I suggest you don't speed up the process! Now go, get your ass out into the gardens where you can scream all you want!" With that the cranky old woman slammed the door.

Glinda sighed; she didn't exactly feel in the mood for taking a walk. Instead, slipping on her shoes, she went to the balcony, opening the dusty doors and letting a burst of fresh air rush into the room. The sun had long set, and now the world seemed enchanting under the silvery starry night sky. She shivered slightly, tucking her hands between her legs, as she gazed at the pale faded moonlight with glistening stars surrounding it. All was hushed and tranquil...except for Pfannee's voice screeching downstairs in the theatre.

"_Think of me, think of me fondly, when we say goo -" _Glinda made an effort to plug her frozen fingers into her ears, but no avail.

A wave of tiredness washed over her, much to her confusion. Did she just not sleep? But she could think no longer, her only desire being blocking out Pfannee's voice and getting some well-needed sleep. She closed her balcony doors, crawling back into her bed, and shoved her pillow around her head. But it was all futile, the opera singer's belting was too powerful. Glinda needed something louder to overpower it. Something as soft as thunder.

She needed Elphaba's voice.

"I wish you were somehow here again," she whispered into the darkness of the room. "I wish you were somehow near, Elphie. Try to forgive me, Elphie, please...teach me to live."

She stared into the darkness for a while, haunted by the familiar blackness from her dream. She really wished for Elphie's comfort now.

Glinda couldn't bear it anymore. She began to cry, the tears she'd tried so long to hold back rolling down her cheeks, the mental walls she'd built so firmly around her mind crumbling to nothingness.

Then it came. So soft, so silent, but clear as ever in Glinda's mind.

"_Glinda, Glinda…Glinda..."_

Immediately Pfannee's nasal annoying voice was gone, replaced by the ethereal voice inside her head.

"_I saw the teardrops, and I heard you cry _

_All you need is time, seek me and you shall find _

_You have everything and you're still lonely _

_It doesn't have to be this way, let me show you a better day…"_

Glinda felt her eyes close to the voice, letting all her senses erode, giving in to the voice inside her mind. Something seemed to envelope her mentality; not a wall, but more of a shield of protection, a sense of security.

Then she felt her own voice call out into the darkness.

"_Teach me, be my master, angel, guide me to better days…"_

As the blonde drifted off into an dreamless sleep, somewhere, behind a mirror, a voice answered to her plea, floating out through the shadows.

"_Yes, I'm your angel of music. Someday, you shall arise. Till the end I will stay with you, you are not alone…"_


	3. Dear Old Friend

**Three: Dear Old Friend**

**A/N: This chapter basically introduces old friends (thus the title). Please review and tell me if the story is moving too slow, too fast or it's too boring. Btw everyone knows the chapters' title references right?**

* * *

When Shenshen had been sure that the Opera was going to rise up to standards one day, she wasn't only convinced. She was right.

Three years was all it took for Winkies to finally discover this underdog Opera, and soon people from all over the Vinkus were travelling to the Arjiki Mountains just to see the Opera. Loyal fans returned to watch the shows again, before returning to their homes to spread the wonderful details of the performances.

They did not know, however, of the strange happenings within the Opera itself.

* * *

"_Let us be glad! _

_Let us be grateful! _

_Let us rejoicify that goodness could subdue_

_the wicked workings of You-Know-Who!" _

Glinda sighed. She'd long given up trying to dissuade the managers not to use that song as an opening, but it'd become too strong a tradition to stop. They were convinced they needed to keep it, express their gratitude to Dorothy Gale for melting the Witch, granting them the castle for their Opera. Even Madame Nani hadn't been able to talk them out of it, even with her stubbornness. Initially Glinda had cringed every time she heard that opening song, but over the years she could only heave a sigh of obligation.

Pfannee continued to sing, her small petite figure looking miniscule on that grand open stage.

_"Isn't it nice to know, _

_that good could conquer evil,_

_the truth we all believeth _

_by and by_

_outlive a lie…" _Out of the corner of her eye, Glinda could see her fellow colleagues plug their ears with cotton wool.

"_For you and – "_

"Attention! Can I have your attention please?" interrupted a voice. There were several sighs of relief, all ignored by Pfannee, who began to fret over her make-up once more, but all the more annoyed that she'd been rudely interrupted.

"What?" she demanded, turning to face the source of the voice, who turned out to be Mister Boss, the manager of the opera.

"I need to make an announcement."

Somewhere in the orchestra pits, the conductor was equally as annoyed as Pfannee was, having to stop the music. "Sir, beg your pardon, but we are in the middle of a rehearsal – "

"Which I don't care about," finished Mister Boss, "for I am retiring today!"

There was a collective gasp, as the short dwarf continued. "There have been rumors of my retirement for sometime, and now I claim them to be true. Let me introduce to you your new managers, Master Avaric Tenmeadows and Master Boq." There was a round of applause as two men were brought out in front of them, Boq in his munchkin shortness, Avaric in his Gilikinese nobility. Glinda smiled. She remembered those two from Shiz: Boq and his infatuation, Avaric and his mischiefs. She wondered how much the political world of Oz had changed them, as it had done with her.

"I am sure you have heard of their recent fortune in a junk business – "

"Scrape metal, actually," corrected Boq, slightly irked.

"Now now, this is not the time to be proud of our own works," Avaric as the applause died down. "But instead of our generous patron, Sir De Chuffrey of Mockbeggar Hall."

Glinda gasped. No, it couldn't be…but it was. The wealthy businessman stepped forwards, and images of their youth flashed through Glinda's mind. Them running around the gardens of her mansion in Frottica, northwest Gilikin. Him running after her, their parents chiding them to act like proper children of Gilikin, and to sit down and have their tea.

"It's Raoul," she whispered. Shenshen turned to her in askance. "Before he moved to Mockbeggar Hall, we were neighbors in our days of youth. He used to visit me ever so often. I suppose we were childhood sweethearts. He called me Little Linny."

"Oh Glinda!" squealed Shenshen, understanding. "He's so cute."

"Sir Chuffrey is just fine, thank you Master Tenmeadows," he spoke, his smooth, low voice sounding throughout the theatre, and for the first time everyone took out their earplugs. "It is an honor to be able to support the arts, especially this Oz renown, Opéra Kiamo Ko."

Introductions were made, with Tibbett having to remind the Opera managers of his existence. "Master Tibbett, the Opera's leading tenor."

Chuffrey nodded in acknowledgement. "I believe I'm keeping you from your rehearsal. I will be here tonight to witness your great triumph." With that he strolled out of the theatre, walking right past Glinda with not even the slightest hint of recognition. Glinda's face fell.

"He wouldn't recognize me," she said, unsure if it were directed at Shenshen or herself.

On stage, Madame Nani cleared the managers off as the dancers began their rehearsals. Glinda mounted upon her Oz painful pointe shoes, dancing upon the very tips of her toes. It'd taken her two years of demi-pointe work for Madame Nani to finally allow her to go on pointe, and until now she still found her shoes excruciatingly painful.

Somewhere offstage she could hear Madame Nani speaking with the managers.

"We take particular pride in the excellency of our ballet, Masters."

"I can see why, especially that brunette there."

"Shenshen, Master Boq, is one of my longest participating students."

"Ahh, Shenshen, I do think I've seen her before." Glinda suppressed an eye-roll; trust Boq not to remember any of his ex-schoolmates but her.

"Say, is that Lady Glinda I see?" Glinda tensed as Avaric called her by her titular name, and was suddenly all aware of her movements.

"She goes by Glinda now," said Madame Nani. "She has great potential. Learning ballet in three years takes extraordinary talent."

_Talent_, thought Glinda, _my foot! Literally, it feels as it were on fire, and my toes are about to drop off, and now I can't even point them; I can't feel them!_

"Now, gentlemen, if you would kindly stand to the side, unless you want to be rolled upon by a giant elephant."

"A giant what? I don't – oh, that giant elephant."

The huge prop came onto stage as the song was about to end. Next to it, Pfannee stood, singing her voice out, trying to ignore the fact that the managers were cringing slightly.

But the minute the song ended, the bomb exploded. Pfannee launched into her tirade. "If you must know, my noble managers, there's a reason why those dancers are not called _stars_! If you'd rather be more interested in the ensemble, I will not sing for the gala!"

Pfannee began to storm off, but the managers chased after her. "Pfannee. Madame Pfannee! Please if you would only care to let us hear you once more, we promise we shall pay the utmost attention to your angelic voice!"

Pfannee stopped, and turned. Her eyes narrowed, as if deciding whether to buy their praises. "If my manager commands," she said stiffly. She looked to the conductor, who replied just as rigidly.

"If my diva commands."

"I do!" she snapped. She turned to the cast members and yelled, "Quiet everyone! _Quiet_!"

"Tell me again, why are you retiring?" asked Boq warily.

"My health," Mister Boss replied simply.

The music started up, and Pfannee positioned herself in the center of the stage, her haven, her territory. She didn't seem willing to give that up anytime soon. Stardom was hers, and she was sure nothing could take it from her.

Oz, was she wrong.

It wasn't too far into the song - luckily, for everyone's ears - when she stopped.

For the backdrop had come crashing upon the star singer of the Opera.

* * *

**On a side note: ComingAndGoingByBubble, you have just made this story a lot more difficult for me to write. I cannot look at Chuffrey as a nice guy now that i have read So Close And Still So Far.**


	4. She Lives in Me

**Four: She Lives in Me**

**A/N: A shout out to reviewers! _Isn't it nice to know...that someone reads my stuff?_ _I couldn't be happier!_ Btw I have just updated the second chapter to a much longer version (28/8/13)**

**ComingAndGoingByBubble: I shall take it up as a challenge to give some face to Chuffery ;)**

* * *

"She's here! The Witch Ghost of the Opera!"

All calamity that had once been in the Opera was now completely lost, and chaos ensued. Girls were screaming, clinging to each other, and the managers and men rushed forwards to drag the fallen backdrop off the terrified opera singer. Nobody knew what to do for a moment, for everyone was just running helter-skelter. Mister Boss glared up at the stagehand Crope, who had begun to pull up the backdrop.

"Don't look at me, Sir!" he cried over the noise. "I wasn't at my post when it dropped!"

Darn it, sighed Mister Boss, it was _her _again.

"For the love of the Unnamed God!" cried Avaric, attempting to calm everyone down. "Give it a rest!"

Pfannee stood, her face quickly turning the color of beetroot. "Give it a rest?" she squeaked, seething in rage. "How can I 'give it a rest' when I was almost flattened?"

"_Almost_," pointed out Boq, "but you weren't - " he was sharply silenced by a glare from Avaric.

"What my co-manger is trying to say there," rephrased Avaric, "is that these things don't possibly happen all the time, could they?"

"Oh, but 'these things' do," said Pfannee, brushing down her skirt. "'These things' have been happening for three years!"

"But –"

"Don't 'but' me! What would you know of it? You've barely been here for five minutes!" she said, not giving Avaric the chance to redeem himself or his friend's. "If someone doesn't get 'these things' fixed, _these things _–" she drummed her chest " – will not sing!" She turned on her heel and marched out, her dressing maids running after her. "Tibbett!"

Tibbett turned to the managers, who'd been looking at him with hopeful faces. "Amateurs." And he hurried away in Pfannee's angry wake.

Mister Boss turned to them, a little too happy. "Good luck gentlemen, if you need me, I shall be in Ev." And he strolled out of the theatre.

Boq turned to the conductor, despaired. "Madame Pfannee…she will be returning, won't she?"

The conductor merely shrugged.

"Do you think so?" asked Madame Nani, cocking her head to a side, her tone seemed to drip with mockery. "I have a letter from the Witch." At the sound of the name everyone seemed to flinch back in fear.

Avaric sighed. "Unnamed God, you are all obsessed! The Witch –" again everyone winced " – has been dead for five years!"

"She welcomes you to her castle," Nani raised her voice.

"_Her _castle?" cried Boq, appalled.

"Yes, and she wishes to remind you to keep Box Five empty for her use, and that her monthly salary is due."

"Monthly salary?!" exclaimed both managers at once.

"Mister Boss used to pay her twenty thousand winkes a week," said Nani, raising her eyebrows.

"_Twenty thousand?!"_ Avaric's shout of surprise seemed to boom throughout the theatre.

"Maybe you can afford more, with Lord Chuffery as your patron."

"Well, there will be no salary left to pay with the need to refund a full house after our star has disappeared!" cried Avaric, ripping the letter to shreds in his frustration.

"But surely, good master," Boq turned to the conductor, "there must be an understudy for Madame Pfannee!"

"_Understudy?" _repeated the conductor. "There is no _understudy _for Madame Pf – "

"Glinda Upland can sing it, sir."

* * *

Good Lurline, why couldn't Nani just have kept her mouth shut?

Sure, she could sing it, she'd been practicing ever since she'd got here, and she'd been dying to see that Pfannee go, but the sudden offer caught her off guard.

"Lady Glinda can sing?"

"She has been taking lessons from a great master, good sir," said Madame Nani.

"And who is this great master?" inquired Avaric, raising an eyebrow.

"I…" Glinda couldn't bring herself to tell them. "I don't know her name."

"Well, what need it matter? Come on; let's hear you sing. Conductor?"

"If my – "

"Please don't."

The conductor obliged, much to her relief, and the orchestra started up. Glinda looked up at the vast rows of seats that spread out in front of her. For the first time, she actually looked up to Pfannee. How had she managed to sing without her legs giving away under her?

"_Think of me," _her voice trembled with timid fear. "_Think of me, fondly, when we say good – "_ No, she couldn't hit the high note. What if she went flat? Or her voice came out too airy?

"This is not helping my case," she heard Avaric whisper to Boq.

"_Remember me, ever so often, promise me you –" _Again she dared not hit it. Glinda wanted to stop, but Nani slammed down her cane, and nobody liked to face the wrath of Madame Nani.

Suddenly everything seemed to fade around her. For a minute she thought she was going out cold, but then she could still hear faint whisperings, yet now there was no one in the theatre – just herself.

_You're going to do fine, Glin. Just believe in yourself._

She turned, and saw Elphie standing next to her. _Sing. _The green girl's lips did not move, and she was smiling._ It's okay. I'm here with you._

Her confidence was boosted. She sang, letting her voice drift out into the theatre. She sang, for Elphie.

Before she knew it, she stood in front of two thousand people, but none of them were there in her mind's eye. Only Elphie. That was the only person she was singing to. Though in the back of her mind she knew that this Elphaba she saw was only an apparition, she was sure somehow, in her heart, that Elphaba was listening to her.

And she was.

Deep down under, a shadow stirred in the darkness.

_I've done it Glinda Upland, haven't I? I've made you popular._

* * *

Could it be? Could it really be Glinda?

It'd seemed so long ago, how young and innocent they'd been. Yet now, there she stood, the eyes dreamy with sparkling beauty, singing like an angel of music.

Raoul Chuffery stood, and took his leave from the theatre. He would not miss this chance to talk to his childhood friend. He wondered if she remembered him. He wondered if she still recalled their days of play and happiness, before he was forced to Munchkinland to continue his medical studies.

His father had still wanted him to take up medicine even with the money they had, and Raoul dared not disobey. They'd parted, Glinda and him, and he could still remember those tears, sparkling like crystals, brimming on her cerulean eyes.

But now, here they were, about to be reunited once more.

* * *

_Brava, brava, bravissimo. _

Glinda smiled at the voice that sung praises. She wondered what it'd be like if Shenshen suddenly walked into her dressing room, and find her grinning like an idiot. But she didn't care. To hear her angel's voice was like going on a shopping spree. No, it was even better than a shopping spree.

Speaking of the devil, Shenshen burst into her room, beaming from ear to ear. "Glinda! Where in Oz have you been hiding? Really, you were just perfect!" She came beside Glinda, who had let her bun fall loose into their natural golden curls. Glinda smiled up at her friend.

"You know, I only wished I knew your secret, Glinda," Shenshen said, in a more hushed tone. "Who _is_ your great tutor?"

Glinda looked at Shenshen. Could she trust Shenshen to tell her? No, Elphaba was a figment of her imagination; Shenshen'd never believe her.

"My father once spoke of an angel," Glinda lied. Her Popsicle never spoke of religious creatures of any sort, only her manners and etiquette. Luckily Shenshen didn't know that.

"I used to dream she'd appear," she continued. "Now as I speak I can sense her. I know she's there.

"Here in this room she calls me softly, somewhere inside, hiding. Somehow I always know she's with me; she, the unseen genius."

Shenshen shook her head. "I watched your face from the shadows; it was distant from all the applause. I heard your words in the darkness, but the words aren't yours."

Glinda turned in her seat. "It's the Angel of Music, Shenshen, my guide and guardian; she has granted me her glory."

"Who is this woman, this Angel of Music?" asked Shenshen, uncomprehending, "this silent and strange angel?"

"She's with me even now," whispered Glinda. "Around me…"

"Your hands are cold. Glinda, your face, it's white."

"I'm frightened."

"Don't be frightened."

"Shenshen." The two girls whipped around to find Madame Nani at the doorway. "The rest are practicing downstairs. Why aren't you with them?"

Shenshen looked nervously to Glinda, who nodded in reassurance_. _The brunette flashed the blonde a smile, before darting through the doorway, before Nani's cane could get her tutu.

Then Glinda was alone.


	5. The Music And The Mirror

**Five: The Music And The Mirror**

**A/N: I'm just wondering, how many of you actually get the title references for each chapter? Ah well, this is the fifth chapter. Enjoy.**

**wickedlytangled: Hahaha yes i have also recently fallen under the spell of POTO, thus the blossoming of this story. Just this month in fact.**

* * *

She had many flowers; bouquets and bouquets of flowers now lined the stone walls of the room. But there was one that stood out, and it wasn't even a bouquet. It was a single lily, tied with a sleek black ribbon.

Glinda picked it up. There was something awfully eerie yet soothing about it. Such a pure white flower, wrapped in something as dark as the night. How…?

* * *

_A chilly morning at the Opera. The morning winds bit at her cheeks as she made her way down the mountain path, following the dim glow of Madame Nani's lantern up ahead. Her pace was quick for an old woman, but Glinda had no problem keeping up with the amount of excitement building up in her._

_Another shiver shook through her body, and she wrapped the shawl tighter around her cold arms._

_Then Nani stopped. "It's up ahead, just round the corner, you'll come to a clearing and from there you should be able to find her. It was just installed a few months ago upon my insistence. I dare not go any further; lingering around loitering spirits seem to wear down my Lurlinistic pagan beliefs."_

_She offered the lantern to Glinda, who accepted it with gratitude. And then the woman hobbled off, leaving the younger alone in the dark of the mountainside forest._

_Glinda drew in a breath, and went forwards through the trees, fumbling with the offering she held in her hands. Her footsteps crunched through the fallen crisp leaves, only succeeding in emphasizing the quietness in the woods. _

_Then she saw it; the clearing – the clearing that was lined with gravestones._

_She continued walking, simultaneously trying unsuccessfully to quell her rising nervousness. She looked at each gravestone, wondering what memories had been buried along with the owner. Most were of Fiyero's ancestors, and there was a row, lined up behind each, of gravestones of the extended family that had resided here in Kiamo Ko. _

_She walked to the edge of the cemetery, and looked upon the gravestone that haunted her. Fiyero's gravestone. And behind it, the row of his family members: Sarima, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Irji, Manek, and Nor. All bodies were not found. In fact, they were the only bodies not found. The bloodiness that could come of such an unfortunate generation, frightened her._

_Glinda shed a tear for Fiyero, but knelt beside the stone next to it, newer than the others. _

_Fae Thropp_

_Died age 38 – body not found_

_May her undone soul ever remain whole in our hearts_

_For her, Glinda shed many tears. She reached out a hand to touch the cold stone of the grave, hoping to find some sort of connectivity. Just as her fingers brushed against the rough surface, a screech owl flew out from behind the stone, sending a splay of feathers flying in her face. She let out a scream, running from the cemetery as fast as her legs could carry her, leaving behind only the gift she'd brought for her friend._

_A single lily adorning a silk pink ribbon._

* * *

"Little Linny wondered to herself, 'Am I fonder of dolls or of dragons or of heels?" Glinda's train of thoughts was shattered as she turned to see Lord Chuffrey enter.

"Raoul," she smiled warmly as the man set down yet another bouquet of flowers.

"Or of frocks or of ryls?" continued Raoul, chuckling.

"Or of picnics on the terrace?" followed on Glinda.

"Or chocolates."

"Popsicle smoking on his pipe," whispered Glinda, "And Momsie sewing her embroidery."

"As we blew bubbles on the roof." Bubbles. How coincidental.

"No, what I love best, Linny said, is when I'm asleep in my bed," breathed Glinda, "And the Angel of Music sings songs in my head."

They embraced. Glinda felt the warmth of those arms again, enveloping her in deep understanding and love.

Then Glinda pulled back and looked once again at Chuffrey, who now had a slight flicker of doubt on his face, "I had a friend that once told me, "When you are far, I'm near. I'm you're angel." And now she lost from me, Raoul, but I have been visited by her. I have been visited by the Angel of Music."

"No doubt of it," agreed Chuffrey. "And I do send my deepest condolences for your friend, whoever she might have been – "

"Might be."

"Excuse me?"

"Whoever she might _be_," Glinda repeated her correction. "Raoul, she may be lost to the world of the living, but she is here, in my heart. She's alive, and she sings to me, all the time."

"Yes, I understand," said Chuffrey, "And now you shall join me for supper. I'll get my hat and we shall be off." He stood and made for the door.

"But Raoul, the Angel of Music is very strict, she will – "

Chuffrey waved his hand dismissively. "Two minutes, Little Linny."

"Raoul – " But the door already slammed shut behind the man.

"Things have changed," she finished to herself.

She was alone again.

* * *

Glinda couldn't believe herself: she was deciding if she should turn a doorknob.

But she couldn't bear to think how angry her angel would get if she left. Every night, and this time, her angel would sing to her, teach her her music. And what if she left?

Suddenly all candles in her room extinguished.

Fear gripped her. She was scared, alone in the dark, and wanted to scream, but no sound would escape her paralyzed mouth she now bit.

Glinda ran to reach for the doorknob, only to hear a booming voice through the room.

_"Insolent boy, this slave of fashion! Basking in _your_ glory! Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing in _my_ triumph!_"

She couldn't help but notice how musical the words sounded in the anger they donned. That voice, which calmed her trembling nerves. But only slightly, not altogether.

"Angel I hear you! Speak, I listen. Stay by my side, guide me. Angel, my mind was weak, forgive me. Enter at last, Master!"

"_Flattering child, you shall know me_," replied the voice. "_See why in darkness I hide. Look at yourself in the mirror; I am there, inside_..."

Glinda turned, and stepped cautiously to her full-length mirror. As she looked at her own face, she saw another appearing, staring down at her. One of a full white mask, hidden under a black hood. It terrified her, it drew fear from her, but something made her go forward. Something made her ignore the banging on her door outside. Something made her receive the gloved hand that was extended from behind the opening mirror.

She was pulled behind the mirror, into a dim narrow passage, almost like the one in her dreams. She followed the mysterious cloaked figure without hesitation, wondering where all her trust was coming from.

But after all, this was the angel that sang in her sleep, that came in her dreams, so what needed she be afraid of? It was the voice that spoke to her and called her name.

And did she dream again, for now she found the Witch of the Opera inside her mind.

She was lead to the end of the passage, where it opened up into another room in the castle. This one, however, was the very room in which Elphaba had died.

The figure pulled her into the room, opening a trapdoor that seemed to blend with the rest of the floorboards, and helped her in without a word.

It led to yet another passageway, zigzagging deep into the darkness. She trusted her angel to guide her though, so she felt no fear. Even as they reached the bottom, where a dark black lake spread before them, she got into the gondola without protest.

"Sing for me, my sweet," whispered the voice of her angel. Glinda obliged, letting her voice soar through the cavernous atmosphere of the watery labyrinth.

"Sing for _me_!" echoed the voice once more. Glinda raised her pitch.

"_Sing!_" the voice pressed. And this time Glinda kept her note, projecting it louder, but by now she felt as if her cords were about to break. Ahead, a portcullis lifted, to reveal a dimly lit chamber. Candles rose from the water, magically illuminating. It was fascinating to watch, but now her lungs were about to burst.

"_Sing for me!_" cried the voice. And Glinda raised her pitch again, hoping it would be the last time, for her lungs felt as if they were on fire.

Luckily for her, it was. The boat stopped, and the cloaked figure stepped out, and swept off the cloak. Now Glinda saw a dark flow of black hair cascaded down, around her ears and her shoulders. She saw a turtle-necked long sleeved dress that came up to beneath her chin, completely shielding the skin.

"I have brought you here for one reason," the masked figure said in a low voice. "And one reason only. You will sing, let your spirit control you. You will give in to the darkness of music of the night."

And so her lesson began, Glinda trying not to stare into those deep, unblinking, blue eyes behind the mask, even as the owner came inches from her face to teach her to use her diaphragm.

Suddenly a breeze swept into the chamber, sweeping aside some of the figure's hair, only to expose a patch of green.

The world around her dissolved to black.

* * *

When she came round, she was in a bed, soft and comfortable. She sat up, rubbing her aching temples, trying to recall what had happened.

Of course, she remembered. There had been mist, swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake. There had been candles all around and on the lake there had been a boat, and in the boat there had been a figure, the same figure that now sat at the desk, engrossed in her work.

Glinda slipped from the bed, making her footfalls as light as possible, as she crept up upon her angel. Who was that shape in the shadows? Who was the face behind the mask? Had she been dreaming when she saw that fleck of green? Or had she never been?

This whole thing was a dream, Glinda told herself, even if this person was…

She lifted the mask.


	6. Reflection

**Six: Reflection**

**A/N: A big Matilda reference in this one! I blame ALWAYShp1 for the influence ;) See if you can spot it! R&R, _that's all i ask of you_.**

* * *

Shenshen crept into the room of her best friend. She'd been one of the first to hear the news of Glinda's disappearance, after witnessing herself Lord Chuffrey screaming at the top of his lungs of his Linny's absence and Madame Nani asking him to shut his mouth. Nobody wanted to hear now that the new star singer had gone missing again.

The room was dark, with only the dim glow of the moon outside filtering in through the balcony. Something caught her eye. A lily, pure and faded white in the moonlight, lain upon the dressing table, next to a set of pins where Glinda had taken down her hair. There seemed to have been no struggle. She looked up, noticing something rather off about the mirror. There was a black emptiness at the side, like it had been opened. Shenshen sneaked a closer look, and realizing it could indeed open, she stepped into the passageway behind it.

But she didn't get far, when a hand gripped her on the shoulder, and Shenshen was spun around to face a rather furious Madame Nani.

* * *

Damn her. Why did she tend to get so absorbed into her work? Why did she make herself so vulnerable? Why did she give Glinda the chance to snatch the mask from her repulsive face?

The mask came off, and she could feel the coolness of the air around her. It didn't last long, the coolness, for it was replaced by a hot feeling of panic, and she whipped her head around and pushed Glinda back, hoping the girl hadn't seen her face.

But it was too late.

"Elphaba."

Crap. Still she kept her face turned away from the blonde.

"I'm sorry Elphie!" the blonde blurted. "I'm sorry for everything! I'm sorry you died!"

What? Slowly, Elphaba turned in her seat. Did Glinda not know she was alive now? No, it hit her; Glinda still thought this was a dream, that she was still part of her own imagination. Elphaba felt a sense of relief rise up in her, perhaps her identity wasn't at stake just yet.

"I should have stayed there with you! I should have helped!" Glinda's body began to tremble, as the petite singer began to wrack with sobs. "It's my fault you're dead! Please, my angel, forgive me."

Elphaba didn't know what to say. Should she comfort her? Then surely, will Glinda not know that she is not a dream Elphaba, for she knew those with guilt will have nightmares haunting them. But yet, she wanted to free Glinda of her guilt, to tell her she wasn't a dream.

"Glinda," she was very cautious with her tone. "I'm dead. Get over it." It probably wasn't the best things to say to a breaking down girl, but in the moment she'd been at a lost of words. And it turned out to be a disastrous choice of words, for in that moment, she'd crossed the line.

"I can't Elphaba!" Glinda screamed. "Your voice, your music, it teases at my ears! It reminds me of your pain, your sufferings when I wasn't there to help you! Do you know how many times I have dreamt that you are there? Do you know how many times I have woken up holding nothing but the cold empty air?"

Glinda that ditz, thought Elphaba, surely she didn't realize she had the freedom to vent her anger on me now, when all those times in dreams she could only do my bidding?

"I told Chuffrey you're alive, in my soul!" the blonde was evidently not on the verge of calming down, but Elphaba made no move to attempt to quell her. "But now I begin to doubt myself! I begin to think that you have abandoned me! That you are only a mere ghost haunting my mind, torturing me till my death! So if you will please, I want to forget. I don't want to know you anymore, Elphaba Thropp. Now that I've finally got the chance to say my apologies, I want to get on with my life! I want you to – " suddenly Glinda paused in her tirade, and took a shaky breath.

"Now wait just a clock tick, how am I getting the feeling that this is no dream?"

* * *

"I hear she has an extra eye that always keeps awake!" Crope said in a low voice, keeping his tone mysterious. "And can shed her skin as easily as a snake! And if you ever dare to meet her…" he pulled in one of the ladies that had been surrounding him to listen to his description of the Opera Witch. "She'll ensnare you with her deadly, bloodstained, Punjab lasso." He threw a lasso teasingly around the lady's head, just as Madame Nani stormed into the room, her face black as a thundercloud, dragging poor Shenshen in behind her. She pulled the lady from Crope's grasp, swinging the lasso around his neck instead.

"If you're smart, Master Crope, you shall keep your mouth shut, and keep those rumors to yourself," she growled, tightening the Punjab lasso. "Lest you be the next victim of her snares."

* * *

Glinda was spazzing. She couldn't help it. Here she was, trying to offer her apologies to her dead friend, and all she said was 'Get over it'? How could she get over it after it was all her fault that Elphaba had died when she could've prevented it, or when it was her fault she'd let her jealousy blind her?

But she couldn't expect much from this dream Elphaba. No words said had ever been comforting from a guilt dream.

And halfway through her spasm, she began to notice a few things. One, Elphaba was not staring coldly at her, rather shocked and confounded. Two, she was rambling and Elphie wasn't trying to stop her. Three, she had the freedom to ramble. This was certainly not an ordinary dream, where what ever she wanted to say to Elphaba would be held back by unknown power.

So she stopped. She stopped because her head felt faint and she needed a breath. She stopped because she didn't feel she was saying anything true. Was this even a dream in the first place?

Elphaba didn't answer her, only keeping that look of fruitlessness on her green face.

"_Are you a dream, Elphaba?_" Glinda repeated shakily. She was quickly losing her patience. "_Am I dreaming?_"

The green witch did not reply, instead rising from her chair and walking over to one of the cloth covered furniture.

"Elphaba, are you going to answer me?"

"What is a dream?" asked the witch finally. "A fragment of memory? A figment of imagination? Or just a shard of information thrust into your brain? Tell me, Glinda, of your most unforgettable dream."

"The first one," replied Glinda softly. "I beat at a face, my own face, and now that you mention a dream can't possibly be a fragment of a memory, can it? I've never beat my own face in my life, never hated it so much."

"Are you sure you were beating your face itself? Or what was inside it?"

Glinda remained silent. What Elphaba was implying could be true; she did hate herself for Elphie's death. So did that mean…?

"Look at your arms Glinda. Have you ever wondered where you got those scars?"

Glinda looked down upon her fair skin, and for the first time, she noticed faint lines along it. "No…"

"I think it's time you knew, Glinda," said Elphaba, and pulled back the cloth from the furniture it covered.

It was a mirror.

A shattered mirror.

"No…" she whispered again.

"Yes," said Elphaba. "You shattered this on your first day. I brought you down here."

"But you're dead."

Elphaba sighed, perhaps, in defeat? "You know that isn't true, Glinda."

"You died!'

"I lead you through that same hallway, down here."

"Dorothy killed you! That brat murdered you!"

"You couldn't accept the fact that I was alive, and smashed the glass to pieces, screaming and yelling it was your fault I was haunting you! Which I wasn't!"

"You've haunted me for five years!"

"That's your own mind ridden with guilt that isn't there! Because I'm alive, and you didn't cause my death! And neither Fiyero's!

"Don't you _dare_ mention Fiyero." Glinda was shaking uncontrollably now. "I saw him hoisted away with my own two eyes, to the field of his torture and death!"

"He's alive Glinda. You know it too."

"No, I don't! Stop trying to make me feel better! Haven't you rubbed enough salt on my wounds? You both were shouting at me in the dream, reminding me that it's all my fault!"

"For the last time Glinda, it wasn't a dream, and I wasn't shouting at you! The potion I gave you must've altered us to face you! I was shouting at _Fiyero_!"

Silence. Glinda was shocked at the last piece of information. She'd been shouting at Fiyero? No, all this didn't make sense. Two lovers like them couldn't get into such a tiff, could they? There were so many explanations now going on in her head, she couldn't tell which spoke of the truth. It was just noise, a noise that fueled her anger, and her anger became light. It's burning would've usually faded, but not today, not with the heat and the shouting, not when her heart was pounding, when her eyes were burning…

"Fiyero threw a fit because I brought you down here, and he said it will endanger us before storming off, but it's not tr – "

"_Stop it!"_ screamed Glinda finally. "You're just making things worse! You're dead, all of you, so stop it! You're just a plague in my mind! Get out of my life, you _wicked witch_!"

Her last word echoed through the cavern. Glinda found her hand flying to her mouth, stunned by her own words. How could she say such a thing, to a friend, who she'd been so long convinced was opposite of a wicked witch.

Elphaba seemed equally stunned, for the green witch could not speak, grimacing as if she'd been slapped.

The silence hung about them in the air, those last two words stabbing down on both like stalactites. The tension in the air seemed to freeze to the point that it was as frozen as the snow capped Scalps.

Then Elphaba was the first to regain her voice, a voice that was blended with so much sadness and anger Glinda couldn't even tell what the owner was thinking.

"So be it, Glinda," said Elphaba, reaching for her mask on the desk and slipping it on. "This is the second time I'm trying to convince you of my living, and my second time at failing. Since I cannot succeed, let it be agreed that I'm wicked through and through, that I haunt you for the rest of your life."

She pulled the blonde to her feet. "Let the dreams and hopes die, let me ache down to my core till I hear you sing once more. I was always halfway real without you, so what difference will it make if I'm not real at all? Since no good deed will I ever do again, let me be just a mere shard piercing into your mind, hurting you till you learn to get some sense into that dumb blonde brain of yours; Till you learn to see the difference between the living...and the dead.

"So be it, Glinda, the halcyon days are over."


	7. The Smell of Rebellion

**Seven: The Smell of Rebellion**

**Yelene-ryudream: Your review actually helped me get some sense of what I wrote in the previous chapter *tries to ignore looks of 'what kind of writer is this that doesn't understand her own story?' from readers* Thanks.**

**A/N: Ah yes, i must thank all readers too. Enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

"Oz dammit, Boq, are you getting this?" Avaric stormed into the office, slamming the door open.

Boq looked up from his papers. "Bless the unname of the Unnamed God, Avaric, you must stop these tantrums before we need to spend more money on the door hinges."

"Money? We have the money!" cried Avaric in frustration. "We have the audience, we have the stage, we have the costumes! We have everything but the singer herself!" He slammed the letter in his hand upon the table, tipping over Boq's cup of coffee.

"Avaric! That was a good rich coffee!"

"I don't care! Look at this, Boq, will you want your coffee after this? First Pfannee, then Glinda! What kind of business is this? Half the cast have disappeared!"

"_Has_ disappeared," corrected Boq, oddly calm. "And the crowds still cheer."

"But will they walk out when they learn of the sopranos' flights? Damn Lurline," cursed Avaric. "This is preposterous!"

"Avaric, if your dwindling intelligence were of higher level you would not shout. It's free publicity!"

"I'm starting to wonder who is the one of dwindling intelligence quotient, Boq. There are no cast!"

"_Is _no cast. But look at the queues, Avaric, I thought it would be your dream come true – to freeload."

"Goodness Boq, have you had a cup too much of coffee?"

"No," replied Boq, "but I had a year too many of Oz's nightmare of politics and business. And along with it a note from the O.W, of which I see you have one too. And I would be right to say that you are equally as appalled as me, excluding the fact that you'd rather vent your outrage on doors."

"Surely, Master Boq, you letter cannot surpass the atrocity this letter beholds!" said Avaric, unfolding the letter. Clearing his throat, he read:

_"Dear Avaric,_

_What a charming gala! Glinda, was in a word, sublime. We were hardly bereft when Pfannee left. On that note, the diva's a disaster, must you cast her when she's season's past her prime?"_

_"Dear Boq,_" read Boq, holding up his note. "_Just a brief reminder; my salary has not been paid. Send it care of the Witch by return of post W.T.O. No one likes a debtor so it's better if my orders are obeyed."_

Boq finished his letter on a grim note, and tucked it back into his shirt pocket.

"Who would have the nerve to send this?" asked Avaric.

"Someone with a puerile brain," replied Boq. "Say, that reminds me of someone."

"Who?"

"You."

"Damn you, Boq."

"Well now, don't let your anger build now, I cannot afford anymore for maintenance on the doors," said Boq. Turning his tone to a more serious tone, he added, "And if you haven't noticed, they are both signed O.W."

"Who the hell is she?" Avaric's eyes widened the minute his question was let loose, for he knew the answer.

"_Opera Witch."_

They sat in silence for a moment. The Witch was dead, Boq had thought, or Elphaba as he knew her in his days at Shiz. Could it be that someone was playing a prank on them?

"It's nothing short of shocking!" he said.

"She is mocking our position!" Avaric agreed.

"In addition she wants money," added Boq.

"What a funny apparition!" remarked Avaric. "To expect a large retainer."

"Nothing plainer, she is quite insane," returned Boq. Elphaba had seemed to dangle slightly on the edge of madness the last time they'd met at his house, though he'd not noticed it before.

"Where is she?" A rather flustered Lord Chuffrey came barging into the room, making the door slam open again, and letting out a squeak of concernment from Boq.

"Pfannee?"

"I mean Miss Upland! Where is she?"

"Well how should we know?" asked Avaric incredulously.

"I want an answer," demanded Chuffrey. "I take it that you sent me this note!"

"What?" the two exclaimed. "What's this nonsense?" asked Boq, his patience waning.

"She's not with you?"

"Of course not!"

"Don't argue, Sirs, is this not the letter you wrote?"

"And what is it that we're meant to have wrote?" asked Avaric.

"_Written_."

"Shut up, Boq."

"_Do not fear for Miss Upland. The Angel of Music has her under her wing. Make no attempt to see her again."_

Avaric finished, confusion written all over his face. Chuffrey noticed, and asked, with just as much confusion, "If you didn't write it, then who did?"

"Where is he?" Another slamming open of the door, with another squeal from Boq. "That bastard, where is he?"

"Ah, Madame Pfannee and Master Tibbett, welcome back."

"I have a note, from the Lord of Mockbeggar Hall," she growled, ignoring the managers' attempts to welcome her. "One which I'd rather resent!" She held up a letter in their faces.

"What? I sent no letter!"

"You did not write it?" asked Tibbett.

"What's going on? You did not send it, Lord Chuffrey?"

"Of course not, Master Avaric!"

"You dare tell me this was not by you?" demanded Pfannee.

"Let me see it," snapped Chuffrey, and snatched the note from Pfannee. "Let me see what I have meant to sent."

"_Your days at the Opéra Kiamo Ko are numbered. Glinda Upland will be singing on your behalf tonight. Be prepared for great misfortune should you attempt to take her place."_

Boq looked up at Avaric. "Far too many notes for my taste," he said.

"All of them about Glinda," noticed Avaric, "All we've heard since we came is Miss Upland's name –"

"Miss Upland has returned." There was a sigh of relief from Boq as he saw that Madame Nani had not slammed the door open. "And she'd be preferred to be left alone," she added hastily, upon seeing Chuffrey's mouth open.

"Will she sing?" pressed Pfannee and Tibbett.

"I have a note."

"Let me see it!" four pairs of hands reached for the note at the same time, resulting in a heap of bodies on the floor.

"Oz dammit, Pfannee, your heel is in my mouth!"

"At least you don't have your face pressed against someone's ass, Master Avaric!"

"Quit it, will you! I have my leg tangled in a scarf of fur!"

"It's Animal fur, mind you, Sir Chuffrey!" Boq grimaced; no wonder the Witch hated Pfannee so much.

"_Gentlemen,_" Madame Nani began to read.

_"I have now sent you notes in the most amiable nature, detailing on how my castle is to be run. You have not followed my instructions. I shall give you one more chance, however. Glinda Upland has been returned to you, and I am anxious her career should progress. In the new production of Cantabile, you will therefore cast Pfannee as part of the ensemble, and Glinda as the lead. I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in box five, which will be kept empty for me. Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imagination will occur. I remain, gentlemen, your obedient servant,_

_O.W."_

"This is an abomination!" burst Pfannee. "A plot to help Glinda!"

"We assure you, Madame Pfannee, there is no conspiracy here! None of that sort!" cried Avaric, out of desperation. "You…you will remain the lead!"

"You are crazy to think that," muttered Nani, tucking the note away. "No one disobeys the Witch. And when someone does…well, not the best outcomes emerge…"

* * *

Glinda watched from the choir stand as Pfannee began to sing her solo. She'd been disappointed, yes, after all the glory she'd received previously, but her mind was too clouded from her nightmare. Elphaba had been trying to convince her of her living, but it wasn't possible. Elphaba was part of history, nothing but a mere memory. She couldn't bear to think that her friend had been alive this entire time, and hadn't told her. It broke her heart, to think that her guilt had been for nothing, and it sparked an even bigger spite against Elphaba. But she didn't want her heart to be broken, or despise her best friend further, so she decided not to believe. But now that she had chosen that, her heart was still whole, but it ached.

Suddenly a booming voice shook her from her daze. "_Did I not request box five to be empty?" _A dark tension seemed to envelope the atmosphere, a shadow embracing the grand, royal theatre.

Glinda sneaked a glance up to that box which had been so often dark and empty. The box, where Chuffrey now stood. Oh no…

"_She's here, the Witch of the Opera,_" she whispered.

"Be quiet, Little Frog!" snapped Pfannee, overhearing. "My solo, your silence."

"_Frog_?" came the voice. "_Perhaps, it ought to be you, who is the frog."_

"Stop with this nonsense!" cried Pfannee. Then suddenly the tension in the air seemed to lift, as if the Witch's presence no longer existed.

Pfannee seemed to think this so, for she began to sing again.

"_Angels ever so bright and fair!_

_Angels ever so bright and fair!_

_Take, oh take me,_

_Take oh, take me to your care!"_

Subconsciously, Glinda began to sing softly along, perhaps because the lyrics seemed to reflect her yearning for comfort of her Angel.

_"Angels ever bright and fair,_

_take, oh take –" _All of a sudden Pfannee's high pitch disappeared, replaced by a froglike croak. Murmur began to ripple across the audience.

Pfannee clutched her throat, still trying to accept the fact that that horrendible sound had come from her. She cleared her throat and tried again.

_"Angels ever bright and fair, _

_take, oh take –"_ It was no use; out came the croak again. The audience was hardly suppressing their laughter now. Now Pfannee began to panic visibly, staring offstage to the managers to do something.

They signaled for the curtain fall, and ran out to announce a change in the program, upon which the ballet was to perform first. She felt herself being dragged offstage. She heard her name being called; called to take the lead. Somewhere in the background ballet music began to play. Her head spun. Should she be happy, or afraid? That voice…how could Pfannee have heard her angel?

"I hope you're happy!" screamed Pfannee, "I hope you're happy now! Always stealing the spotlight, aren't you? Can't get enough of it? Need that broccoli to come help put you back in your place?"

"Pfannee!" scolded Glinda, stung.

But Pfannee, in her rage, would not be stopped. "Oh wait, I forgot, the artichoke had been burnt and overcooked. So who would be around to help you now?"

Before Glinda could say anything, there was an ear-splitting scream from onstage, followed by shouts and gasps from the audience. The two turned around to peer out from the wings, and both stumbled back in shock from what they'd seen.

Crope had been hanged. Just above the ballerinas' head, his twitching body dangled from a Punjab lasso that seemed to extend out from the darkness overhead. Then it stilled, and the stagehand moved no more.

As his lifeless body fell to the stage with a thud, Glinda thought she could hear mocking laughter inside her mind.

_The first difference, Glinda: The dead look dead._


	8. Finding Our Way In The Dark

**Eight: Finding Our Way in the Dark**

**8/9/13 - To my newborn sister, who celebrates her first day with us in the world today; may she always find comfort with us in times of darkness and stay strong through it all.**

**And also to her – our – godsister, Claire, whose birthday was chosen as the special day.**

* * *

Lord Chuffrey should have known sitting in Box Five was the dumbest thing to do.

But he couldn't resist to see what the Witch would do. This Witch, everyone spoke so fearfully about. The only Witch he knew to have lived in this castle was the Wicked Witch of the West, who he knew to be an irk to his company when he invested in a large supply of Animal furs. He'd been pretty sure she was dead.

Until now.

The voice boomed through the theatre, sending a slight shock of fear shooting through him. He glanced down nervously to Glinda, who happened to look up in that moment. There was fear in her cerulean eyes as well, and the shadow of a plea for him to get out of there. And he did. He stepped out of the theatre, and hurried down to the wings, where he could be closer to her, where he could make sure she was safe. Glinda needed him, and he wanted to be near when she did.

By the time he'd gotten there they'd closed the curtains, and now she and Pfannee were in the midst of a heated argument...something about a broccoli or an artichoke?

Before Chuffrey could make any sense of their vegetable argument, chaos broke out.

The scream, the body dropping from above, then falling upon the stage in the middle of the horrified ballerinas.

Glinda had stumbled back, and was now swooning, looking as if she could faint, while Pfannee had stormed out of the room, screaming of ghosts and witches. Chuffrey rushed over, balancing the unsteady blonde. She jerked slightly, pushing out of his grasp, visibly tensed and eyes wide with fear, but relaxed when she turned and saw who it was.

"Raoul!" she dove into his arms, feeling his arms wrap around her now shivering body. The sense of security was so strong, so familiar. Like how it had been with Elphie.

Elphaba.

Glinda pulled away, tensing once again.

"Glinda, are you okay? What's – woah, where are we going?"

"To the roof," she replied, dragging him through the theatre, up the spiraling staircases. "It's never safe in here; she sees everything."

"Who?"

"Not here, Raoul."

They reached the top, bursting upon the roof, the cold night air blasting into their faces as they ran out of the door. A shiver shook through her again, and Chuffrey wrapped his arms around her once more. This time she didn't pull away.

"Tell me, Linny, what's on your mind?"

"Her," said Glinda, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. "She's always in my mind. Wherever I go, she's always there, singing songs in my head. She's always comforting me whenever I'm in need. But now, she's…she's changed, Raoul, I don't know how, but she's changed."

"Glinda." Chuffrey spun the spastic blonde around to face him. "Glinda, you must calm down. You must start from the beginning. How did it begin?"

"With her."

"Glinda please, you must be specif – "

"It began with Elphaba."

Chuffrey fell silent. Elphaba didn't sound like a common name, but it didn't ring a bell so far. He felt ashamed to have been so distanced from Glinda all these years not to know who this girl was.

"She was my best friend," Glinda whispered. "She was passionate, determined, prickly. And then…well, lets just leave it that her passion was too strong, and it led her out of control, and…and she…she…" Glinda's body began to shake again.

"Glinda, don't," soothed Chuffrey, stroking the crown of her golden head. "You don't have to do this."

"She was nothing short of good. She had a good heart, a good mind, a good purpose. But the odds were against her. They were too strong. And I…I stood with the odds, because I was a coward, a foolish girl scared of her reputation. She died because of me.

"I'm the cause of her death, and now she's getting back at me. She comes to me, haunts me. I'm frightened, Raoul. I don't know my angel anymore. She's gone, wherever she went, behind that façade of the Witch of the Opera."

For a minute Chuffrey didn't know what to say. The Witch was her angel? No, it was impossible. "Little Linny, listen to me, there is no such thing as the Witch of the Opera. Elphaba was a good person, not a Witch, so they can't be the same person."

"No," said Glinda, shaking her head, "it is she. I've seen her, Raoul, she took me down to her realm, to where all light fades into unending darkness."

Again Chuffrey couldn't comprehend the girl's feelings, and silence sealed his lips. From what he'd heard the late Witch had been green. And Glinda, with her reputation so precious to her, couldn't be friends with a green monstrosity, could she? It just didn't match.

"Glinda, you must've been dreaming," said Chuffrey. "She's dead, is she not?"

Glinda thought about it. "I must've been dreaming," she agreed, and smiled. She was glad to hear that someone was here to assure her it was a dream; it healed the ache slightly.

"Let's talk no longer of the dark times," he said, caressing the frame of her small delicate face. "I'm here, nothing can harm you. Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry your tears. I'm here, Little Linny, beside you to guard and guide you. Let me be your shelter, let me be your light. You're safe, no one will find you, and your fears are far behind you."

Obliging, she rested her head against his chest, evidently relaxing much more.

"Raoul?" she whispered.

"Yes?"

"I like you, did you know that? I didn't want our relationship to end like that, those years back."

"I didn't want that either," he admitted. "My father was a very demanding man, and I didn't dare disobey him. He had me go to medical school, to pursue his unfinished dream, which I dropped as soon as I found my courage. I went back to Frottica, but you'd already gone. Never have I stopped thinking of you since that day, Glinda."

"So say it, will you?"

"Say what, Little Linny?"

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime, say the word and I will follow you. Share each day with me, each night, each morning. Say you love me, Raoul. You know I do.

"Love me, that's all I ask of you."

Chuffrey smiled. "I love you, Glinda Arduenna Upland of the Upper Uplands," he said, "anywhere you go, let me go too. Glinda, that's all _I_ ask of you."

* * *

Elphaba hurt everywhere. She hurt because of the wind that stung her eyes, the only exposed part under her mask. She hurt because she'd been straining to hear the conversation. She hurt because her stomach churned and twisted at every word said about her. She hurt inside the most, in her heart.

She thought she'd been helping Glinda. She thought by telling the blonde, Glinda would stop hurting herself. Elphaba had seen those times through her looking glass when she'd cry till her eyes became red, or pull at her hair whenever she was in distress, or even pick up her butter knife at breakfast and hover it over her wrist. It had gotten better over the years, but the assurance of Glinda's well being was not enough for Elphaba. She could still feel the guilt weighing down upon her best friend, the way her shoulders slumped or the diminishing diet. She couldn't stand it, and so when Glinda came to the Opera, she couldn't resist.

She'd taken it too quickly that first night, bringing Glinda down to her chamber and trying to convince her. It was hard, especially with the blonde refusing to listen and Fiyero shouting at her.

Fiyero. She thought he'd always be with her, as long as she was his, but now she was alone, atop the roof of the Opera. Perhaps she'd pushed her limits with him too far.

She'd managed to convince him several times. The first being right after their plan worked. She hadn't wanted to go; she couldn't leave Oz, not without telling Glinda. Elphaba hadn't told him of her plans of the confession, however, merely coming up with an excuse to get them to stay here, down underneath where no one would think to look for them. The second being his transformation to man, which had good outcomes, but it made her complacent of her persuasion skills. And thus, the third and the most rash, didn't go so well.

That night was painful, but it was like an irremovable thorn. She'd sneaked Glinda down to the chamber, and when Fiyero saw the blonde he lost it. He began to yell at her, demanding to know if she'd lost her mind, telling her she'd snapped, become a vegetable – which, he realized a second after he'd said it, was not too appropriate, but she'd been too upset to scorn him further. At that time she'd been sure she'd been in the right, and Fiyero had been unreasonable, yet in retrospect, maybe Fiyero did have a reason to storm off. She'd defied him for her own selfish goals to help her best friend. Did that mean, that she had put her obsession to help Glinda, to guide her, before the love of her life? It terrified her of how thoughtless she'd been. Elphaba began to wonder if Glinda wasn't the only one finding her way in the dark now.

But now Fiyero was gone, and time waits for no man. Life had to go on, even as one of the most vital reasons of her life had walked out. She could do nothing but cling onto the other reason: Glinda. Elphaba was heartbroken, but she refuesd to cry over spilt milk, only able to continue pursuing that goal of hers. She took it slower this time, speaking to Glinda in her dreams, hoping to make her presence known. But Glinda had mistaken her for an angel, an ethereal being instead of a mortal one. Elphaba, in her desperation to change that mindset, tried once more to bring her to her chamber, to show her that she was a physical being and not a spiritual one. But she'd been hesitant to tell the blonde, and couldn't resist the temptation to free her voice into the echoing caverns, demanding Glinda sang for her.

Now as she sat upon the roof, she wondered, what made her want to tutor Glinda in the first place? How did she sidetrack of her main goal? What made her want to come to Glinda in dreams, and teach her to sing?

Elphaba didn't look long to find her answer. Glinda had the voice of an angel, and it was only right that she used it. It would be killing two birds with one stone, replacing Pfannee with Glinda, for the former had been terrible, adding onto the grudge Elphaba bore for the girl who played a nasty prank on her in college. It was out of mere convenience.

But Pfannee was a prima dona, and hadn't been easy to get rid of. She had the whole world bowing down at her feet, and so Elphaba had resorted to threatening to ensure Glinda's fame.

However, she never thought Boq and Avaric would disobey her commands. She never thought she'd have to resort to killing to teach them a lesson. She never thought Glinda would be scared of her, and now it hurt her, even more so that she'd lost Glinda to that fop Raoul de Chuffrey, her number one rival when she'd been hot in the Animal campaigns.

The Witch found she was scaring _herself_. How did such a simple want to do good for her best friend, become so complex and disastrous?

No good dead went unpunished.

Was her past coming back to haunt her?

No. Elphaba wouldn't let it. She'd make sure she'd get what she wanted. She'd make sure Glinda eventually accepts her. It was too late to go back to sleep -she'd passed the point of no return.

Nothing could stop her.

The Witch threw back her head and let a cackle pierce through the winds, followed by a burst of raw power that sent Opéra Kiamo Ko's grand chandelier crashing to the floor.

* * *

**A/N: 'Finding Our Way In The Dark' is a song recorded by my choir and I, dedicated to cancer patients to aid them in renewing their hope of life. I might use the lyrics in a future chapter, so look out for it! ****This story wasn't exactly the best theme to dedicate to my sister, but it isn't everyday when a new sibling comes into your life. **


	9. Come to a Party

**Nine: Come To A Party**

**A/N: I must be crazy posting this when i should be studying for my exams. Oh well, i guess it's just a break from ribonucleic and deoxyribonucleic acids. Please R&R!**

**A (Guest): Thanks! I've already planned to drag her to watch Wicked when she turns ten (the age i fell in love with it) ;D**

* * *

It took a month for the Opera staff to get over the shock of the broken chandelier.

It took two months to coax the terrified Glinda out of her room.

It took another three to fix the chandelier.

And another four to arrange earn back their audience.

After ten months, the Opera finally decided to throw a masquerade to commemorate the reopening.

Yet, it didn't help to calm Glinda's nerves that the Witch Ghost was being awfully quiet.

The party made her insides twist till they hurt. It was too familiar: The lights, the ball gowns, the grand staircase…

_Masquerade, paper faces on parade…_

And she was with the love of her life, as she had been with Fiyero those years back in Shiz. They'd been so happy together, feeling the same blithe as what she felt now. Only this time, Chuffrey loved her back.

"I promise you, Glinda," he whispered now as they danced on the ballroom, swirling with the flurrying skirts and colorful costume, "I will go to the end of the world even if it means to protect you; I will let no harm come to you."

_Masquerade, hide your face so the world will never find you._

All around them was music, lively upbeat music that seemed to take her troubles along with the flow of the tempo.

_Masquerade, grinning yellow, spinning reds…_

"Oh Chuffrey," Glinda smirked coyly, "you are just being too nice."

_Masquerade! Take your fill, let the spectacle astound you._

"Then I hope you appreciate my altruistic services," he said, flashing a smile that could light up the whole Opera. Glinda giggled, feeling her youth resurface.

_Masquerade, burning glances, turning heads…_

"I don't appreciate your altruism, Raoul," she replied, "I love them."

"Then marry me, Glinda Upland."

"What?" she pulled away from his arms, staring at him, only to see his sober-sided expression.

"Marry me," repeated Chuffrey in a hushed tone, "then we can escape this place; you'll be safe with me in my household in Mockbeggar Hall."

_Masquerade! Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you._

A sense of lightheadedness washed over Glinda. She broke away from Chuffrey, jostling through the throngs of dancers, anywhere to get away from the dizzying multitude of bright colors. The more she stared at the moving costumes, the more her eyes hurt. She needed air.

Escaping to the shadows of the side of the ballroom, she leaned against a pillar, composing herself once more.

_Masquerade! Breathing shadows, seething lies…_

Chuffrey had asked her hand in marriage, to leave with him, and never come back. Could she do that? Could she really betray Elphaba?

_Masquerade! You can fool any friend who ever knew you._

In the midst of the ballroom, she could see Chuffrey looking for her. He'd sworn to protect her. From what?

From Elphaba, she knew. The Witch Ghost was more cantankerous than ever, despite her ten month silence. She knew deep down in her twisting guts that the vengeful spirit of the Wicked Witch was not done just yet.

"Glinda," a hand rested on her shoulder, and she jumped.

"Sweet Oz, Chuffrey," she sighed in relief, "you must stop giving me heart attacks."

"Well, I'm sorry if my proposal was too rushed," he said, caressing her cheek. "But we've been dating for ten moths, Little Linny, I thought…" he trailed off, leaving his thought unsaid, but his face waited for a response.

Glinda didn't know what to say. After what happened with Fiyero…she supposed she just didn't have the same confidence in romantic relationships anymore.

"I don't know…Chuffrey," she said, "I scared."

"Of what?" asked Chuffrey, "What need you be afraid of? It's an engagement, not a crime."

"Let's not argue," said Glinda, with slight weariness. "You will understand in time."

Chuffrey nodded in understanding, much to her relief. "Yet, you still look troubled, love." Glinda felt her insides heat up at the way that last word rolled off his tongue. Or was it at something else?

"I don't know, Raoul, something's a bit off about this party…" she said in a low whisper. "Like I know something bad is going to happen."

Chuffrey stared at the love of his life, whose eyes now darted nervously around the room, her lips trembling in fear. She'd just been so stressed ever since the chandelier fell, and despite multiple assurances, she just wouldn't relax.

"Come on, Glinda, it's just a party," he said, cupping his hand beneath her chin and turning it so that her eyes met his. "It's a great excuse to cut it loose, and do what you feel. So just for one night, don't hold tight, let go…." He leaned in and kissed her, only a nip on the cheek, still unsure about her stability on the relationship.

Glinda thought about it for a moment, pondering over his words. Maybe, just maybe, she could escape the tension of her problems for a while.

"Dance with me, my love," he said, with a tone Glinda could not refuse.

Burying her worries, she flashed a gleeful grin, pulling Chuffrey back into the masses of costumes and masks.

_Masquerade! Every face a different shade…_

They danced, letting the music guide them as they twirled and moved together as one. Her sobriety was almost immediately forgotten.

_Masquerade! Look around, there's another mask behind you._

Glinda felt so happy now – it felt as if she were in Chuffrey's embrace forever, safe from any harm.

_Masquerade! Leering satyrs, peering eyes…_

It was exactly as she had felt in the Ozdust Ballroom, except…

_Masquerade! Run and hide, but a face will still pursue you!_

Suddenly the music fumbled to a stop, and took along with it the joviality and lightheartedness. A gasp rippled through the room, drawing attention to the top of the grand staircase.

Glinda had thought too soon. This was the last piece of her dreaded recreation of the party at the Ozdust.

This was the arrival of Elphaba.

* * *

Of course, with her notorious reputation, the Witch Ghost had to pick the costume that terrified everyone to the core.

Herself.

She was clad in a black shoulderless dress with a plunging neckline, exposing her sharp distinct collarbones. A long, flowing dress extended from the sleek black bodice, to her feet that adorned a pair of fashionable black-heeled boots. The pair of deep blue eyes glared through the black mask, as if burning the crowd with her fiery stare. She wore no gloves; her long, gangly green fingers twiddled cruelly, as if deciding what to do with them.

If it weren't for the current situation, Glinda would've thought Elphaba rather pretty. Now the green girl took everyone's breath away, yes, including Glinda's, just not in a very good way.

No one spoke. The ballroom, which had been so full of merriment and laughter just under a clock tick ago, was cold with tension and silence. Glinda could only feel her heart banging against her chest, heat rising in her body as blood pounded in her ears.

The devilish beauty began to descend the steps. Every click of the black heels seemed to sound like a drum, a beat of dread.

Elphaba's lips curled up into a cruel smile. "Why so silent, good masters?" she fleered, eyes glinting dangerously. "Did you think that I have left you for good?"

_Six years ago, yes,_ thought Glinda, but didn't voice her opinion. In fact, she had no idea what to make of the situation. Why was Elphaba doing this? What exactly did the green witch have in mind?

She turned to stare at Boq and Avaric, who recoiled in fear. "Did you miss me?" she sneered. "I have written you an opera." She held up a stack of parchment bound in leather casing; so that was what she'd been doing for ten months. Glinda never realised how musically inclined Elphaba was until now. That was right, Glinda remembered, Elphaba had taken part in the music elective programme back at Shiz, being the adventurous soul. It came flooding back.

_Elphaba sat at the edge of her bed, her long green legs dangling off the edge as she sat amongst the array of papers strewn on her covers. Glinda snuck a glance over._

_"What are those things, Elphie?"_

_The girl looked up. "What things?"_

_"The black dots and circles, with that mess of squiggly strokes at the side?"_

_"For the last time, Glinda," Elphaba said, sighing, "The 'black dots and circles' are notes, they can come in whole notes, quavers, semiquavers, demi-semiquavers. The 'squiggly strokes' is a treble clef."_

_Glinda stared at the notes for a while longer, before giving up. "Gah! That's so hard to remember! How do you do it?"_

_"Same as how you remember the layout of your overflowing closet of pink, Miss Glinda," Elphaba replied curtly._

_"That's easy, I arrange them in shades of pink, like from neon to fuchsia, from magenta to crimson."_

_Elphaba rolled her eyes. "Nevermind, you'll never get music."_

_"But why do you even bother studying it, Elphie?" asked Glinda curiously. _

_Elphaba looked at Glinda, her eyes now held a serious, passionate fire. "When words fail, music speaks."_

* * *

Elphaba stared down at the looks of terror on everyone's faces. She smirked; it wasn't new. She loved the moment of shock, and took her time to revel in it.

There was nothing left for her in this world. No love, no happiness. Fiyero had left her, Glinda was shunning her, and there was nothing left of her but fear. So why not stay around a bit more and let it out, and have some fun traumatizing these people? Wasn't it one of her favorite pastimes, she thought bitterly, seeking victims she can hurt?

She prepared ten months for this. Ten months of writing and composing music she didn't know she had in her was frightening to her, but she couldn't help the exploding emotions that were fueling her in her writing. So much anger had been brewing in her for such an overdue time she felt she was going to lose it if she didn't let it out.

In correction, she thought, she'd already lost it. Hell, it was too late to back down now.

She tossed her work to Avaric, who caught it in the nick of time, his hands trembling as the red leather landed in his hands. "The Flawed Wizard," she hissed. Everyone's breaths seemed to hitch in their throats. The Wicked Witch was really back, defaming their wonderful Wizard.

"Fondest greetings to you all," she said, unable to hold back the venomous guile. Her lips involuntarily tugged back into a savage smile at the thought of her next words. "Just a few instructions before rehearsal starts," she continued, the silence still hanging in the air. "Pfanee must be taught to act, not her usual trick of strutting 'round the stage." Elphaba felt a tremor of pleasure as the Prima Donna's jaw dropped to the floor. "Our Wizard must loose some weight, though he was quite rotund, nonetheless it's not healthy in a man of Tibbett's age." She poked her former classmate in the chest, who had become rather round in the years. She took no notice of his appalled expression and turned to the managers.

"As for my managers…" she began, her voice dripping with malevolence. "Learn that your place is in an office and not the arts. And Boq, that's the most hideous outfit I've ever seen. I suppose a frog might have suited you better than a skeleton, though I can reduce you to one if you want…" Boq gulped nervously and Elphaba cackled inwardly; oh, how she missed throwing her power about.

She turned to Glinda, who remained frozen at the bottom of the staircase. The fop wasn't anywhere in sight, but Elphaba doubted she'd seen the last of him tonight.

* * *

Glinda swore her heart rate shot up when the witch turned to face her. They locked, Glinda unable to avoid the deep blue orbs no matter how much she wanted to. And she saw something. It looked like…craving. For what?

Then it was gone, and that cold stone shield was drawn up again, along with flames of malice that spoke words unspoken.

_The second Difference: The dead don't draw fresh fear. _


End file.
